"Yes, Ms. Maxwell, how can I help you today?"Elaine Maxwell was a Black woman who looked like she could have been in her late 40s. Her form-fitting re... suit hugged every curve of her mature, sexy body. Her black, silk stockings caressed her beautiful legs and her tasteful and sophisticated pumps framed her sexy feet to perfection. Her hair was straight and hung just below her shoulders and her face was stern but pretty. She wasn't drop-dead gorgeous or anything, she had aged well but she wasn't. We shall have good ale ... and bad, soft beds or a blanket upon rocky ground, and whether in good company or bad we shall not quarrel ... agreed?"Aroused to his feet, the gléaman raised his blackjack of ale high, and after refreshing his pipes, he burst out into an old familiar tavern song that everyone knew and could sing along to.Bring us good ale, and bring us in good ale;For our love of The Seven's sake, bring us good ale.Bring us no brown bread, for that is made of bran, Nor bring us no. I felt the growl build up in his stomach then burst from his mouth. Terry's orgasm coincided with mine and seemed to come from his feet, through his legs and trembling thighs. I could almost hear his heart beating like thunder then hot spermatozoa shot exotically onto my cervix. It felt amazing and it seemed to permeate my entire body creating a warmth that filled my being as well as my senses. Isn't it just how a woman is supposed to feel? Tom had never done that. “Jesus, I am so sorry, I. He was very open about his likes and dislikes, about him being a TG admirer, about having had a fair number of encounters and dates, but he never pressured to know anything about me. Drawn by his gentleness and gentleman ways though I found myself sharing my deepest dreams and wildest fantasies with him through regular emails over the following several months. Richard had this way of making me feel all giddy inside just by the way he wrote and I soon discovered that I could not get enough.